


Dr. Cumberbatch

by The_Whip_Hand_81



Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ben reading Little Red Hen, Benedict Cumberbatch is pediatrician, Crush, Doctor Batch, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Live-in nanny, Mention of Dr. Martin Freeman, Mention of Nurse Amanda Abbington, Romance, Sheryl Crow song, Slow Dancing, Sweet, light-hearted funny, some sad but not for long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Whip_Hand_81/pseuds/The_Whip_Hand_81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a live-in nanny who needs to take your sick charge to the doctor. His substitute pediatrician is Dr. Cumberbatch. Cute, fluffy stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Cumberbatch

**Author's Note:**

> My first "fluff" piece to give my Mature stories a short respite! Comments are always very welcome! 
> 
> There are two scenes where I reference Youtube videos. Since I don't quite know how to input video media just yet, Youtube Benedict reading "The Little Red Hen" when prompted to. And then Youtube "I Shall Believe" by Sheryl Crow for the last one when prompted.
> 
> Enjoy!

I hate when children get sick. They turn into little germy, oozing specimens that cling to you whenever they get a runny nose and high fever. Truly disgusting, but I must say that I honestly love kids. I’ve worked with them all my life and so far have made a legitimate living caring for one. I am a live-in nanny for the Engels family in Upper East Side of Manhattan. I take care of 7 year old, Oscar, the Engels only child- thank God, because he could be quite the handful. But, I chalk up all his misbehaviors and tantrums to lack of parental contact. His parents are both high demand celebrity lawyers and are never home, thus the reason why I live in their duplex apartment to keep constant care of little Ozzie – er, Oscar.

Today, Oscar stayed home from school because of a high fever and vomiting so that means off to the doctor’s we go. We hail a cab outside the private high-rise building and get to his pediatrician’s private practice on the West Side. With Oscar’s hand in mine, we enter the townhouse where his doctor’s office is located: the practice of Cumberbatch and Freeman. Dr. Freeman is Oscar’s pediatrician since he was 3, but Nurse Amanda has just notified me that he is not available to see Oscar today since he is overbooked with appointments so he’ll have to see Dr. Cumberbatch. I’ve never met Cumberbatch before, but I don’t care, I just want to get out of this God forsaken sick haven that is a room filled with coughing children and go home. 

After 35 minutes, Oscar and I are called back into one of the examining rooms. This particular room has the quintessential examining table and sink and the walls are painted with a mural of a cartoonish jungle with wild animals peeking through the tall blades of grass and vines. There is a small round children’s table with miniature chairs and a tea set on top for kids to play with. Nurse Amanda pops into the room with a warm smile holding a plastic cup with a lid, “Hello! Sorry, just wanted to give you this. Little Oscar needs to wee in this cup for bacteria culture,” she says in her pleasant English accent. 

I take it from her and ask, “Okay. Hey, how’s Dr. Freeman doing?” I ask this because Amanda is married to him. 

She lets out an annoyed huff, “Oh, don’t ask…why the man became a pediatrician when he hates children, I’ll never know. Dr. Cumberbatch will be with you shortly.” 

I giggle as she slowly closes the door behind her. I look down at Oscar who is looking back up at me, “Okay, Ozzie. I need you to do me a favor, kid. I need you to pee in this cup for me,” I hold out the cup to show him.

His eyebrows crease in disgust, “Why?”

“Because the doctor needs to see if there are any germs in your pee pee.”

“Of course there’s germs in my pee pee, it’s pee pee,” he smartly retorts. 

“Please? It’ll take 2 seconds,” I smile hoping he’d say yes before I squeeze the urine out of him.  
“How do I do that?”

“Like you pee in the toilet just…smaller.” 

A slow grin forms on Oscar’s tiny face; I knew what he was going to ask, “Then show me how boys pee pee in a cup.”

“If it’ll get you to give a sample, fine,” I give in and Oscar happily claps his hands.

I stand in front of Oscar as I hold the cup in front of me; my legs slightly spread and pretend to hold onto my invisible penis. I sigh as if I’m peeing and release some fake mouth farts. Oscar is cackling so loudly that I don’t hear the door open behind me.

A man clears his throat, sending me jumping to the ceiling and spinning to face him. My face red as I lay my eyes on the doctor standing in front of me in a white long jacket, white stethoscope around his neck and a file in hand. I am mortified. 

My voice cracks as I embarrassingly greet him, “H-hello.”

The doctor enters the room and walks up to me with hand extended but withdraws his hand before I could shake it, “Oh, did you wash your hands first? Always wash your hands after using the toilet.” He flashes me a warm smile that shows me he’s got a sense of humor and that he’s most certainly fuckin’ gorgeous. Dr. Cumberbatch’s eyes are a beautiful sea green/blue with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. His hair is shortly cropped brown waves, some touching forehead. He’s rather tall and skinny with the deepest, sexiest English accent I have ever heard. I am mezmorized as I quickly glance down at the hand I am shaking for a wedding ring. Nope, awesome. I shall seduce him with my awkwardness! 

“Having trouble getting a sample?” he asks me looking at Oscar. 

“How’d you guess?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s rare when I see a woman standing to urinate…” he kneels down to Oscar’s size, “Hey, Champ, do you think you can give me some pee in this cup? I promise you’ll get some candy when we’re all done.” Oscar smiles and snatches the cup and runs for the bathroom. 

Dr. Cumberbatch smiles at me again and gestures to the adult chair by his desk, “Please.” 

“Oh, I’ll just sit here, thanks.” I slowly squat down to sit in the mini children’s chair. He smirks and sits himself down at his desk and looks through Oscar’s file. I am uncomfortably looking around the room, ‘Holy crap, he’s so hot!’ I scream in my head. 

He breaks the silence, “So, I’ve never seen you before. I’ve seen Oscar twice before but with his mother.”  
“Yeah, I’m their live-in nanny…I must’ve had those days off.”

“Nanny, you say?” he questions seriously.

“Yep…for three years…is there anything wrong?” it feels like he’s unsure about what I do.

“No, no…” he looks through Oscar’s file again, “I hold nannies in the highest regard for their work and patience with children. And by the way you were making Oscar laugh tells me you do an excellent job of that,” he looks back at me and smiles warmly. My heart is fluttering and I bashfully look down at my shoes, “Thank you.”

Just then, Oscar returns with his full cup of urine. The doctor takes it from him and praises him, “Great job, Ozzie!” 

“That’s what my nanny calls me!” he excitedly shouts.

“Well, great minds think alike,” the doctor laughs and hoists Oscar on the table. 

Still sitting in the small, crowded child’s chair, I stare up at Dr. Cumberbatch examining Oscar with his stethoscope. The doctor is asking him simple questions about his maladies as I daydream at this new man. I can’t concentrate on what he’s telling Oscar because my hormones are in overdrive. Being single for so long I tend to zone out whenever I crush on someone in the same room as me.

I join earth once again when I hear Oscar ask Dr. Cumberbatch, “Are you and Dr. Freeman Time Lords?”

I nervously laugh, “No, Ozzie. They’re regular doctors, not The Doctors. He seems to think all Brits are Time Lords.” 

Then Dr. Cumberbatch turns to look down at me, “And how can you be sure I’m not The Doctor? People are always telling me I haven’t aged a day.”

Oscar chimes in, “She has a huge crush on Doctor Who…”

I nod a bit, “Yeah, well, who doesn’t, am I right?”

Oscar giggles, “She likes all boys who talk like you.”

I can feel my face radiate red heat as I stand up to grab him off the table but the small seat is stuck to my butt, sending Oscar and the doctor into a giggle fit. The doctor kindly helps pull the chair off my backside as I try not to die of humiliation. I lift the kid off the table and pretend to fix his clothes. The doctor hands me a prescription.

“This is an antibiotic, that should take care of the infection. Come see me if his symptoms worsen,” he kneels down to Oscar and whips out a lollipop from his inner sleeve like a magician. “Excellent job today, Ozzie. Feel better.” 

The doctor stands up and whips out another lolly presenting it to me, “And you also did an excellent job,” he winks.

Smiling awkwardly, I take it, “Thank you, Doctor.” I guide Oscar out of the office and wave goodbye to the doctor as he watches us leave with a smile.

**

It’s been two days and Oscar has only gotten sicker. I shouldn’t be this happy when this poor kid is vomiting mucus but that means I get to see Dr. Cumberbatch again! I mean, he gets to see Dr. Cumberbatch again. We’re back in the doctors office which is insanely packed with ill children, so ill that Nurse Amanda is wearing a mouth mask. 

“You’re next, love,” she calls Oscar and I into a room. This room’s theme is Disney princesses. Nurse Amanda apologizes, “I’m sorry, sweetie, but this is the only available room. We usually reserve this for the girls, but we’re so full today.”

Dr. Cumberbatch walks in, “Oh, no,” he says sympathetically, “I was hoping you’d be better by now, buddy…” he then smiles at me. I shyly smile back.

“Nurse, can you take Oscar for his vitals?”

“Sure, come Oscar,” she takes his hand and leaves the room.

I’m sitting in the chair by his desk when he jokes, “Ah, I see we’re sitting in the big girl chair today.”

“Yeah, well, my knees didn’t appreciate the children’s seat the other day,” I chuckle.

He sits at his desk a foot from me and looks at the walls like I am. “Aw, they put him in the princess room…shame…” And he tries to start a conversation, “So, where is your prince?”

I nearly choke on my spit before answering, “My prince? Oh, no, I don’t have one.” 

“Really? Well, I find that hard to believe.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. It’s a downright tragedy,” he says in a serious tone. 

I laugh, “Oh, I don’t think so…”  
“Sure it is! A young beautiful woman like you – there should be a throng of men beating down your door!” 

“Ah,” I wave him off with my self-deprecating attitude, “Now, you sound like my mother.”

“You’re mother is right,” he smirks as Nurse Amanda brings Oscar back in. She places him up on the tables and leaves.

Dr. Cumberbatch stands up in front of Oscar, “Okay, buddy lets have a look at you today.” 

When the exam was over, the doctor tells him he needs plenty of rest and needs to drink lots of fluids. He gives Oscar a lollipop and a high five then Oscar runs out of the room to say hello to Dr. Freeman. 

I’m gathering my things as a Hershey’s Kiss is presented to me an inch from my nose. I look up and Dr. Cumberbatch’s hand is in front of me, wide smile on his face, “Girls love chocolate.”

I laugh and take the candy. And for some reason I blurt out, “They also love real kisses.” 

I pause and think of what I just said and quickly call out to no one, “OKAY, I’M COMING! Goodbye, doctor!” And run out of the room before he says anything. 

**

Tonight, I’m in a great mood. I prepared a nice dinner for Oscar and me: salad, spaghetti and meatballs, oven rolls and kool-aid – our favorite. I had just finished cleaning the huge apartment including the outside terrace. I pull out the dinner rolls from the oven when I hear a knock on the door. It’s 7pm, I’m not expecting anyone. 

I open the door to see Dr. Cumberbatch standing there in a brown trench coat. I gasp in surprise and embarrassment as I am wearing a tank top, sweat pants and fuzzy slippers. He’s standing there with one of his warm smiles, “I’m so sorry this is unexpected.”

“You make house calls now?” I joke, shyly stepping behind the door to cover my pajamas. 

“I forgot to tell you in the office earlier that giving him raw ginger mixed with warm corn syrup helps coat his throat and removes mucus better than most drugs…it’s a wonderful homeopathic alternative, so…” he pulls out a bag of raw ginger and corn syrup.

“Doctor! You really didn’t have to do that…how sweet,” I take the bag, my heart melting.

“I, uh, also wanted to see you again…I don’t mean to look creepy and just show up,” he stutters.

“Dr. Cumberbatch!” Oscar comes from behind me to high five him.

“Hello, Oscar!” 

The kid turns to ask me, “Can he stay for dinner?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

I open the door wide, “No, please, come in. Dinner just finished and I made a lot of food. Join us, please.” 

I take his coat and hang it up by the door while Oscar takes his hand to show him around the duplex. I hastily fix my hair into a much neater ponytail and put on a dab of tinted lip gloss- it’s the least I can do to look my best in 2 seconds. 

When the doctor and Oscar come out from the terrace, I ask him if he’d like a drink.

“Please, I’d love one. And call me Ben,” he sits at the dinner table, Oscar quickly sitting next to him. 

I bring over a gin and tonic for Ben and a glass of wine for myself. 

“What a lovely spread you have here, Ozzie. Did you help your nanny cook?” 

“Yes. I cooked the salad,” he points.

During dinner, Oscar is playing with his food, throwing his meatballs around the plate. I take a sip of wine, “Ozzie, stop playing with your food.”

“But it’s fun,” he states. I look at Ben who is waiting to see what I say.

I calmly reply, “I know but we have a guest, honey, and we have to show good manners.”

“Nonsense,” Ben interrupts, “he’s been sick for almost a week! Let him have some fun!” He looks down at Oscar and continues, “Do you know how I like to eat my spaghetti? I like to grab one noodle at a time, hold it up in the air over my mouth and eat it like it’s a slimy worm.” And he demonstrates making Oscar laugh.

Oscar tries it but does so with multiple noodles and sauce plopped all over his small face. I get up to rush and clean his face while Ben laughs and protests, “Oh, come on! It’s okay to get a little sauce on your face, see?” Ben slaps a wet saucy noodle onto this nose and cheek sending Oscar into a case of the giggles.

I jokingly respond to his action, “Why I hardly think that is appropriate dinner behavior, Dr. Cumberbatch.” 

“Really? You should try it some time, it’s quite liberating, actually.” And before I know it, Ben throws a handful of saucy wet noodles onto my face and it is slowly creeping down the side of my right cheek. 

“Oops! I didn’t mean to throw it so hard,” he laughs and gets up to wipe my face with a napkin. I grab a handful of spaghetti off Oscar’s plate and slowly smush it onto Ben’s nose and mouth, really rubbing it in. He just stood there and took it like a man. And like that, our spaghetti food fight begins. 

**

After an hour of clean up and removing impossible sauce stains from Oscar’s shirt, Ben is helping me with the dishes while Oscar gets ready for bed. I’m washing the dishes as he stands next to me, drying them and putting them away. 

“You’re wonderful with kids,” I tell him, rinsing off a plate and handing it to him.

“It’s easy to like kids. They’re the most brutally honest, intelligent and delightfully funny people on the planet. I get along with children more so than adults,” he places the dish on a stack in the cabinet above him.

“Do you have any of your own?” I curiously cock my eyebrow and look over at him. 

Ben sighs and looks down at the damp towel in his hands, “Sadly, no. My biggest regret is never taking a wife and making a family of my own.”

“I’m sorry….I know how you feel,” I reply a little choked up, “I’m not able to have children. I guess that’s why I love Oscar so much.”

Ben glances over at me and places his hand over mine on the edge of the sink. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes, “I’ve never told anyone that before…”

He takes the cup I was washing and puts it down and pulls me into an embrace. He is hugging me, his chin on top of my head, his hands rubbing my back consoling me. I can’t help but let my guard down and lightly sob into his chest. He softly hushes my sobs and whispers, “You are the best thing to ever happen to Ozzie.”

Just when I was going to let out a terrible sob, Oscar comes running into the kitchen in his Avengers pajamas. “Ben, Ben! Read me a bedtime story!” He is pulling Ben away from me.

“Okay, okay!” Ben turns back to me, “I shall return!” and off they run into the bedroom.

I take a few swigs of wine from my glass and feel terrible that I cried in front of him. I sigh to myself and walk toward Oscar’s bedroom to spy. The door is ajar and I quietly peek into the dimly lit room. I see Oscar tucked into bed, Ben sitting on the edge of the mattress reading “The Little Red Hen” aloud. [Listen and watch Benedict reading "Little Red Hen"...if you haven't already in the past.] 

 

I smile as this warm feeling of love washes over me listening to Ben read so sweetly and lovingly to Oscar. I am in awe of this beautiful man- how can he be single all these years? The story is over and I quickly tip toe away from the door and into the living room. I turn on the fireplace and the stereo on low. I pour myself another glass of wine and pour one for Ben as he enters the room. I hand him the glass as we clink our glasses. A song by Sheryl Crow comes on. [Listen to "I Shall Believe" on Youtube] 

 

I sit down on the plush couch by the fireplace but Ben remains standing, his hand extended out to me.

“What?” I ask.

“Dance with me,” he answers with a straight face.

“This is a slow song. I don’t dance to slow songs, don’t know how…” I embarrassingly chuckle and take a sip from my glass, “Besides, I’m not dressed fancy enough for slow dancing.”

Ben places his glass down and grabs the white throw blanket that usually decorates the couch. “Come, come, stand up for me,” he politely urges me.

Confused, I do as he says and he takes my drink from my hand to put it down, then holds the blanket up, “Raise your arms above your head, please.”

I’ve got a weird expression on my face I’m sure but I do it anyway. Then Ben wraps the white blanket around my body and securely tucks the loose end behind my back. 

“There! Now you have a lovely and stylish strapless gown. Now…” Ben bows down and asks ever so British like, “May I have this dance, princess?”

I snort unlady like and curtsy, “Of course.”

I take his hand and he leads me away from the couch and places one hand on my hip and takes my other hand to properly place it on his body. Ben looks into my eyes, the shadows projecting from the fireplace dance on his face and the walls around us. He begins leading the dance starting out like a waltz. I can see the moon shine in from out the terrace window behind him as he twirls me in my fabulous blanket gown. A laugh escapes my mouth and I catch a sparkle in his smiling eyes. I truly feel like a Disney princess and I never want this moment to end. In the last few days, this man has made me happier than anyone has ever made me in my entire life. And as the song comes to a close, Ben is holding me closer to his body. My face nuzzles close to his and I raise my chin up and kiss him on his soft lips. Ben holds my face and returns the soft kiss. We share a long passionate kiss that feels like forever, a good forever. I pull away and look up into Ben’s blue eyes, relief in his eyes as well as in mine. 

“Thank you, Ben,” I whisper, “for everything tonight.”

Ben places a kiss upon my forehead and I can feel him smiling into my skin.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“You smell like spaghettis.”

We both laugh until tears come to our eyes.


End file.
